"Practice is the hardest part of learning, and training is the essence of transformation."
--Ann Voskamp; One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
Until all are One. I am here.
His voice whispered across the ages, echoing into places he didn't see with his eyes. His gaze pierced into nowhere and a hand lifted. Experimented. A finger tapped at nothing in the air, yet felt resistance. The resistance sprang back like a taut string. Voices echoed in from everywhere and every-when, belonging only to Primus knows whom.
He whispered into the aether, to the waking dreams.
You are new to me.
Yes, I am. Who are you?
I am deemed a lord in this place.
Designation?
I do not understand. My name?
Designation. What are you called?
Nocturnal. And companion, Sithis.
Two of you.
Many more.
Understood. I hear you. Where are you?
Far, in the dreaming.
The Prime was silent for a long while, pattering one mighty finger with a feather-touch against the nothingness in the air that acted as a springing solid. Acted as a boundary. He heard the whisper of death and the outcry of life. He felt more than heard or saw limits being drawn and broken.
Another is with you.
No. We are with it, as the Lull dictates.
It is damaged.
Yes, and no. It...He...is mine to guide. My pupil. My warrior.
I do not seek to commit a wrongdoing. Why do we hear one another?
Something within, is beyond our scope.
A limit?
A new horizon. A change.
A transformation?
Yes. We are constant. He is not.
I will guide him. With you, if you permit.
Yes. We permit.
Cybertronian steps took him away in silence, strides careful and well placed. The peace out here was comforting, yet the Prime felt the faint tug of home. Of friends separated from him. He was comforted, knowing that they still lived. This new thing gave him thought, the idea to guide another. In part, he wondered how it could be done, if indeed he and they were so far from one another.
I will try. Yes, I will try.
--Ann Voskamp; One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
Until all are One. I am here.
His voice whispered across the ages, echoing into places he didn't see with his eyes. His gaze pierced into nowhere and a hand lifted. Experimented. A finger tapped at nothing in the air, yet felt resistance. The resistance sprang back like a taut string. Voices echoed in from everywhere and every-when, belonging only to Primus knows whom.
He whispered into the aether, to the waking dreams.
You are new to me.
Yes, I am. Who are you?
I am deemed a lord in this place.
Designation?
I do not understand. My name?
Designation. What are you called?
Nocturnal. And companion, Sithis.
Two of you.
Many more.
Understood. I hear you. Where are you?
Far, in the dreaming.
The Prime was silent for a long while, pattering one mighty finger with a feather-touch against the nothingness in the air that acted as a springing solid. Acted as a boundary. He heard the whisper of death and the outcry of life. He felt more than heard or saw limits being drawn and broken.
Another is with you.
No. We are with it, as the Lull dictates.
It is damaged.
Yes, and no. It...He...is mine to guide. My pupil. My warrior.
I do not seek to commit a wrongdoing. Why do we hear one another?
Something within, is beyond our scope.
A limit?
A new horizon. A change.
A transformation?
Yes. We are constant. He is not.
I will guide him. With you, if you permit.
Yes. We permit.
Cybertronian steps took him away in silence, strides careful and well placed. The peace out here was comforting, yet the Prime felt the faint tug of home. Of friends separated from him. He was comforted, knowing that they still lived. This new thing gave him thought, the idea to guide another. In part, he wondered how it could be done, if indeed he and they were so far from one another.
I will try. Yes, I will try.